


the journey in between

by HiHereAmI



Series: Mildred Hubble, Teacher [1]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, I'm making this deeper than it is, Mildred is not present physically in this fic but will be in the next ones!, Post-Canon, Ten years after Mildred graduates from Cackle's!, Where the author reflects on teaching and being taught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25522432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiHereAmI/pseuds/HiHereAmI
Summary: ''There was a balance in them, different outlooks running side to side like streams from a waterfall, without questioning. A balance that Ada had just tilted, envelope in her hand and telling her that Mildred Hubble had just graduated as a witching teacher. ''Or, Hecate really reallyreallythought she'd never hear of Mildred Hubble again. Ada had other plans.
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle & Mildred Hubble, Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom, Hardbroom & Mildred Hubble
Series: Mildred Hubble, Teacher [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849030
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	the journey in between

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Slight canon divergent from S4 onwards since at the time of writing, I hadn't started the season yet! You'll see why, inside! I think I predicted quite a lot of plot points, though. I'm quite proud to say so!
> 
> None of these characters belong to me. I just want to play along for a bit.
> 
> The biggest of thanks to @cassiopeiasara who not only got me into the series and Hackle but also beta'ed this fic ;-; THANK YOUUU CASS!!! Go leave big comments on her fics, please! (All mistakes are my non-native speaker fault, though)

The day seventeen year old Mildred Hubble graduated from Cackle’s, Hecate Hardbroom exhaled a deep sigh of relief. 

Shoulders squared, she watched the sight of the young girl drift away on her broom, posture straight, a single braid flying behind her and Tabby the cat peeking from her backpack (because the wretched thing still had never learnt to fly properly). 

When the reality of the situation finally dawned, that young Mildred was a grown witch now, away from her care and responsibility, she couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of nostalgia for the small troublemaker that watched everything with awestruck eyes five years ago. Not that she'd admit it to anyone but Ada. Even then, she’d need to be under the influence of an evening of warm tea and cuddling on the couch with the first post-term dawn glow washing lazily over their tangled limbs.

Nonetheless, even for Hecate, life goes on. So she mourned the loss of yet another generation of children she’d given her all to, hugged her wife close, breathed in and prepared for a new generation that would kill the Craft even further.

* * *

The next time Hecate heard of Mildred, the young witch didn’t come crashing down over her head and into a pond but it quite felt like it.

“Excuse me?”

She blinked at Ada, who was smiling (rather cautiously) from behind her desk, the inconspicuous envelope on her hand. 

“Wouldn’t you like to sit, my dear?” she said, pointing to the seat in front of her.

“I think I can handle it, Ada” Hecate said, but sat anyway. “What is this about Mildred Hubble wanting to become a teacher?” 

“She’s already one.”

She pursed her lips. Her wife, way too amused by the situation, smiled and handed the envelope over. If Hecate’s hands trembled a bit while opening, she didn't mention it.

There was a certain kind of unspoken agreement between them. An understanding that in the same way their teaching and handling students was different, so would be their reactions once the students were gone. Ada liked to keep in contact with them. She enjoyed knowing their lives and their minds, stored lovingly in letters upon letters sent from all over the world around her office and rooms. She replied on term weekends and calm mornings on bed, Hecate’s head on her lap dozing on and off while Ada laughed to herself and ran her hands over her wife’s hair. She liked to remain a steady presence through her student’s lives, a hand extended so they could reach out, an ear to vent to, a shoulder to lean on while the now grown witches pondered over the twists and turns of their own lives.

Hecate was the total opposite. Not to say she wouldn’t help a young woman out if she came to her doorstep asking for counsel but she preferred to not initiate contact. Sometimes, she preferred to not know at all. She let the children grow up and away every year, let herself feel the pang of longing, and be comforted by an all too knowing Ada. then she dusted herself off to carry on with a new term, new kids that need assistance, new minds to correct and nurture. 

It wasn’t because she didn’t care, far from it. She was not made of ice and stone, no matter what the youngest pupils whispered in the corridors. Ada would have even said, if asked, that she cared too much. Miss Hardbroom needed to move on so Hecate wouldn’t get stuck. 

So she listened to Ada’s laughter, straightened the new knick knacks on their shelves and never inquired about their origin. Sometimes pieces of information slipped from the other teachers or a younger sibling and Hecate squared her shoulders, sometimes Ada smiled too tightly, with tears on the corners of her eyes and needed to hold hands for a while but all in all, at the end of the day, she knew as much as she wanted to know, enough to not dwell in regret, enough to let them free. 

There was a balance in them, different outlooks running side to side like streams from a waterfall, without questioning. A balance that Ada had just tilted, envelope in her hand and telling her that Mildred Hubble had just graduated as a witching teacher. 

Hecate looked up at her wife. She was smiling softly now, a bit of an apology between her lips,, but also a hopeful glint on the corner of her eyes. That was all the encouragement needed to take out the letter of the already opened envelope. They knew each other well. If Ada decided to share, it was for something.

There were two sheets of paper inside. The first one was a letter in Mildred’s loopy handwriting (it hasn’t changed much). She skipped it and read the other.

“Well?” Ada asked. Hecate didn’t even wonder how Ada knew she was done. Her eyebrows must be high enough. She coughed.

“We are… talking about the same  _ Mildred Hubble _ here?” Her voice accentuated the familiar name in a way unfamiliar after all these years. 

“Yes, Hecate.”

“The one who blew up the potions lab at least once per year.”

“Yes, Hecate.”

She looked down at the paper and casted a few spells silently. Just to be sure. Ada looked from over her glasses fondly.

“It is not forged, Hecate. I’ve checked. Those are her certifications," She paused " _ and _ her grades.”

Hecate tightened her mouth in a line and looked elsewhere, past Ada’s all knowing eyes, fixing her gaze on the glass figurines and postcards through the office, those she knew had been given by pupils through the years and dedications she had never wanted to read, even though many times they had been addressed to her as well. 

“I gather there’s a reason you are telling me this?” she inquired dryly.

“Have you read the letter yet?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Hand it over, my dear. I’ll read it to you, alright?” she says and extended her hand. When Hecate passed her the paper, their fingers brushed. The fact that the simple touch significantly soothed Hecate’s nerves is an testament to how ridiculous Hecate felt.

Ada smiled fondly at the familiar handwriting, cleared her throat and started to read.

* * *

_ “To the High Authorities of Miss Cackle's Academy for Witches.  _

_ Miss Ada Cackle, Headmistress and Miss Hecate Hardbroom, Deputy Headmistress _

_ I write to you this time not in the quality of alumni - but of fellow teacher, although your junior in experience and notoriety in the witching community. It’s come to my attention that in the past few years, more and more young girls from non magical families have been found to have magical capabilities. I'm also aware that, against the advice from both the Great Council and the Great Wizard, Miss Cackle’s Academy for Witches has set the example of accepting these girls as witches-in-training and that it has been followed by Miss Pentangle’s Academy for Magic, amongst others.  _

_ You’re aware I was in a similar position, more than a decade ago, and it was a formative and educational experience. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without your help and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m sure you are doing quite the same right now and I’m thankful for that, too. Please keep that in mind while reading the following.  _

_ During my time at Cackle’s, I was a child. I wasn’t fully aware that, while I was learning, my teachers were too. Adulthood and training as a teacher myself have given me that hindsight. I was learning to navigate the world as a witch and all of you were learning how to navigate , well, me. I did what I could and I’m sure all of you did, too. I was trying my best and, let’s be honest, what Miss Hardbroom used to call “the catastrophe that follows you” stemmed mostly from lack of confidence and incomprehension of what witching was. _

_ The thing is, all these girls, they are most definitely going through the same experience. It’s strange, Miss Cackle, Miss Hardbroom, to be thrown into a world of flying broomsticks, magic that sometimes you just can’t control and rules that haven’t been repeated to you since birth. It’s bewildering. And, most of the time, even if one puts a brave face on, it’s scary. Even as an adult! If you allow me the liviety, in my final practical revision to get my teacher qualifications I was so nervous I forgot that I could simply teleport into the examination room and walked two miles from my lodgings.  _

_ My years at the Academy were the most wonderful but also the scariest. I know this was true for both myself and my classmates. All girls are scared and all us adults learn is how to face that fear. It’s the journey in between the two that is the most difficult. This is why I became a teacher. To preserve the memory of how it was and use it to make the road a little bit easier, as my teachers did for me. Because all girls are happy, too. And all us adults learn is how to help make it happen. _

_ Right now, girls like me are entering to Cackle’s from all over the region and, even though I know you’ll do your best and that you’ve learned from your experience teaching me, I’m also aware that I personally have the experience of being the student. I can help. I want to help.  _

_ These are the reasons of why I’m currently writing to you to offer myself for the position of teacher at Cackle’s. I’m aware Mr. Rowan Webb is retiring after this term and, as you can see in the certificates attached to this letter, I’m highly qualified to replace him for the position. I won’t pretend to have his experience or to be extremely well regarded by the witching community but I also know that Miss Hardbroom, you’ve never prioritised appearances and Miss Cackle, you’ve always kept potential when you saw it as a best fit.  _

_ No matter your answer over the subject, I want to reiterate how happy the years at Cackle’s made me and how that is, too, the reason I’m even writing this letter. I’m grateful for my time at the Academy. For the friends I made, the things I’ve learnt and the teachers who taught me. I’m even thankful for all those detentions. That’ll never change. _

_ With my best regards, _

_ Mildred Hubble” _

* * *

After Ada’s voice faded, silence followed. 

It was when something wet touched her cheek that Hecate realised a few tears had dropped on the corner of her eyes. She wiped them out discreetly.

_ “ _ Oh my dear, _ ” _ Ada whispered, voice dripping with fondness. She had always seen past any self-imposed discretion Hecate pretended to have. Hecate coughed, trying to dissipate the knot on her throat.“That was…” She started, then run out of words. 

“Very moving?” Ada supplied.

“A  _ surprise _ .” She settled. “It’s remarkable how that girl can now write a decent letter.”

Ada chuckled. 

“I’d gather it was more than decent.”

“Please. It was an official letter, there was no need of getting  _ sentimental. _ ” Hecate scoffed and pointedly ignored Ada’s amused smile “And what was that of addressing us both? Has she forgotten how rank works? You are Headmistress, you are the one she needs to write for the job’.”

“Oh, you caught that too, didn’t you?”

Hecate raised her eyebrows. The “Who do you take me for?” went unsaid.

Ada smiled and then amusement was replaced with a pensive sort of worry. She was biting her lip. There was something she didn’t want to say, that was noticeable.

“I’ll admit that is… partly why I called you.” She started, sitting straighter on her chair, elbows on her desk and chin over her joint hands. She looked every bit the Headmistress. “She addressed us both so…”

She didn’t finish the phrase. She was still trying to gather her thoughts, searching for the right way of saying what was on her mind. Alarm bells blared in Hecate’s head.

“Ada,” She called carefully. The desk between them was suddenly an upsetting distance. “Did you know about this?”

Ada eyes shifted guiltily but didn’t deny it.

“I knew she was training as a teacher. Not that she was considering Cackle’s as well.”

The alarms in her head rang louder. She couldn’t be implying—-

“Surely you are not taking her request seriously” Hecate stated. 

Ada didn’t miss a beat.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asked. Her posture was calm, but tense. She expected… something. Hecate suddenly felt very  _ very  _ cornered. She raised her voice, trying to make Ada see reason. 

“Ada. She’s  _ Mildred Hubble. _ ” She stated carefully. Her voice drawled over the name. It still tasted foreign in her tongue. 

“I’m aware.”

Oh, but it was this calm she couldn’t take. Ada looked at her with the patience one would have towards a child throwing a tantrum. A hysterical desperation bubbled in her throat. She shot up from her seat and started to pace around the room, gesticulating wildly.

“She- she was pure  _ chaos _ !” She exclaimed, not even noticing how high pitched her voice had gotten. ‘‘The years she was here- everything that could happen under the sun happened!”

“I won’t deny that it did, Hecate,” said Ada calmly. She was still sitting at her desk but her brow was furrowed. “And I agree with her words. It was almost always a result of lack of confidence or lack of knowledge! Both from her and from  _ us, _ Hecate. We didn’t know how to handle someone like her and that’s on us.”

Hecate stopped on her heels. Although Ada worded it gently, she could still feel a pang at their mistakes -  _ her  _ mistakes - being put on the spot so bluntly. She breathed in shakily.

“We didn’t know how to handle a witch from a non magical family, I agree.” She said slowly. “But we've learned.”

Ada nodded. 

“We have.”

Hecate pursed her lips.

“And it still doesn’t mean we need Mildred Hubble, of all people.” 

Ada sighed.

“Why not?” She asked gently. The sight of her, so calmly refusing to see reason, sent Hecate pacing around the room again, now with her arms thrown up in the air. 

“Why not? I’ve got five years of reasons why!” And she did. Shadows of the past were flashing behind her like a badly strung nightmare. Except it had been real. All of it, every single wretched bit. She huffed and turned away from the desk.

Ada had stood up too, following her across the room. Hecate’s mind flashed to a similar scene years ago. 

“Hecate.” Ada called. She complied - doesn’t she always - and turned around to face her. Her brow was furrowed in confusion. “She knows firsthand how it was. She knows the ropes, she went through that challenge herself and succeeded.”

“But at what cost?” Hecate’s voice rises, sharp “Ada, do you even remember those years?”

“Of course I do!” She exclaimed, voice higher than usual. 

“Do you remember the risks?”

Ada’s eyes flashed with pain.

“I really thought you’d trust me better to—”

“Ada,  _ I almost lost you. _ ” Hecate interrupted, voice breaking. Ada stood frozen, understanding suddenly dawning like a cold shower. She looked like she wanted to reach out and couldn’t. Hecate realised how desperate her own tone sounded and tried to straighten her shaking shoulders. When she spoke again, it was with an illusion of her usual composure “ _ We _ almost lost you. So many times.”

Ada raised her chin. Sympathy shined in her eyes but when she spoke, her voice was firm.

“It wasn’t Mildred’s fault.” She said, weighing every word. 

Hecate nodded.

“Of course it wasn’t. She was just a child.” And she wasn’t just agreeing, she had truly believed so for years. She ducked her head. Memories kept spinning through her head: young Mildred in a freezing room, ready to give up everything, girls upon girls being sent into Agatha’s office and the silences, too many of those silences that should never be in a school full of young children, empty and unforgiving “But a child we didn’t know how to handle. A child we didn’t know how to protect. A child we —  _ I _ … almost ... failed.”

This time Ada did reach out. Softly, she took Hecate’s hand and led them from the immediacy of her desk to the sofa. They sat in silence, at careful distance, hands still clasped. 

Ada was the first to break it.

“You’re not afraid of some hypothetical chaos that she’ll bring. You’re afraid we’ll fail her — that we won’t be able to guide her as a teacher” She said, tasting the words like when she was figuring out what elements Hecate had mixed on a specific potion. “You’re afraid of discovering that we’ve failed her already, all those years ago, and that she didn’t grow into the adult we hoped she could be.” Hecate didn’t raise her head. Ada scooted closer. “Am I wrong?”

Hecate was too tired to argue. Emotion ran hot and fast with her, lighting quick, leaving a devastation in its wake. She leaned a bit on the sofa and looked at Ada’s earnest face from the corner of her eye.

“You know you’re not, silly witch,” She bit back without heat. Ada sensed the undercurrent of fond amusement in her voice and smiled a secretly smug smile that Hecate could most definitely see. She sighed and tapped her free hand on her thigh “Although I could affirm it’s a little bit of everything, including the hypothetical chaos she’ll bring, mind you. I don’t discard I’m worried over a teacher blowing up the East Tower monthly”

Ada chuckled.

“We don’t need Miss Hubble for that, my dear. I shall remind you Lila Buster managed to blow up half the third year's dormitories just two weeks ago. You were the one who gave her half a year of detentions over it.” She clicked her tongue teasingly, then grew serious “Which is exactly why I think Mildred would be a good addition. I know we could have done more. We didn’t know what to do and sometimes went with what tradition and our instincts told us instead of seeing what was right in front of our faces. _ I _ couldn’t see...”

She squeezed Hecate’s hand, who suddenly understood that she wasn’t the only one riddled with the memories. That wonderful, compassionate Ada also thought back to many of those years with the never ending symphony of i-could-have-done-better playing in the background. So Hecate did the only thing she could do when Ada reached out, when she shared the scars and the hurt. She squeezed back.

“But now we know better.” Ada’s voice resolved, firm once again. “More and more witches from non magical families have been appearing all over the country and you know there’ll only be more. I think we’ve done well, we can do well but there’s space only someone who went through this...drastic change can cover and we’ve got someone right here, willing to do it. And I’m willing to accept it.” 

The finality of her tone hung heavy on the air. Hecate watched the edges of it drift away towards the ceiling, hitting the walls where pictures of generations of Cackle’s girls laughing and dancing mingled with snapshots of them and their life together.

“Hecate,” She called “I need to know you support me”

Hecate’s head snapped up.

“Always,” she said, trying to pour all the feeling she could onto it, trying to dissipate any doubt. “Ada,  _ always _ . You know it.”

Ada shook her head quickly, an apologetic smile on her lips.

“I know, my dear. I’m sorry. I need to know you _agree.”_ She looked at her earnestly “I need to know that you won’t do it for my sake, that you’ll support her stay. I cannot have another Julie Hubble situation.”

Hecate arched an eyebrow. “Is  _ this _ a Julie Hubble situation?” She quipped. 

Although she knew perfectly well what Ada was referring to, her memories of that time also included a fair bit of mishaps that were definitely  _ not _ her fault.

“Well,” Ada laughed sheepishly “That was a mistake. My mistake. One I don’t regret, mind you, but my mistake nonetheless.”

Hecate narrowed her eyes. “Ada” She scolded as gently as she could.“It wasn’t your mistake. Just… badly timed circumstances. A  _ snowball _ of badly timed circumstances.”

She said the last thing with an ironic smile on her lips, that Ada immediately returned, brighter with open joy. She always had caught Hecate’s jokes and received them with open arms. 

“Isn’t it always?”

They were okay.

Hecate looked into Ada’s eyes and let herself relax fully into the sofa, tugging their joined hands so Ada could cuddle besides her. 

They were going to be okay.

She sighed. “I do agree that Mildred Hubble’s certifications are  _ impeccable _ ” she said, uttering the last word as if it pained her. Ada only hummed and cuddled closer. “And I trust your judgement, always.”

“She addressed you too, Hecate. I don’t think it was a mistake.” Ada said softly “She wanted  _ your  _ judgement as well as she wanted mine.”

Hecate’s first impulse was to blush. Her second was to scoff to cover it up.“I don’t see why she would. She clearly didn’t learn anything from me, by the likes of that letter” She said as bitterly as she could, which was alike to those meringues they had bought for dessert recently. Ada turned her head towards Hecate’s sweater to muffle her laughter. 

“Admit it, darling, you’ve missed her.”

Hecate rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Ada squeezed her hand.

“I do think she’s learned from you, you know. The likes of that letter have proved so, no matter how much you deny it” She said and the proud tone she saids it with made Hecate believe it, at least for a little while. “They all do. You are a good teacher, Hecate.”

Hecate shifted to rest her chin over Ada’s silver hair. She breathed in the familiar shampoo and was overcome with a wave of affection, as she always did when Ada was trying to soothe her worries, doing something particularly cute or even doing nothing special at all. The feeling wasn’t picky and, after a third of a century together, Hecate didn’t have the energy to fight it anymore. 

“You are, too” She simply said. Ada would know it wasn’t just a pleasantry.

When silence fell over them again, it was comfortable and warm. The future, spun by decisions yet to make, awaited outside of the room. Hecate hugged Ada tighter. Let it wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can yell at me in @hihereami ! Tell me what you think! All comments on this are really appreciated and tbh encouraged.  
> I expect doing more of this series with short bits including Mildred teaching at Cackle's, her talks with Ada and Hecate... slice of life!
> 
> So, yes, please, tell me what you think!


End file.
